


when the stars in the sky fade into one

by thesecretdetectivecollection



Series: i lost love, but i found you [3]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 17:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14898765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesecretdetectivecollection/pseuds/thesecretdetectivecollection
Summary: Gary finds out, and it's less than pretty.





	when the stars in the sky fade into one

Jamie’s phone rings one morning. David’s a heavy sleeper, so he doesn’t bother leaving bed, just reaches over his lover’s sleeping, naked, ink-covered back and picks it up.

“’llo?” he asks gruffly, voice almost unrecognizable with the rasp of sleep laying heavy over his vocal cords.

“It was a mistake. Holy shit, it was _such_ a mistake, coming here, I’m clearly shit at this, what the fuck was I thinking? I—I’m going to get sacked, I know I am, won’t even last till the end of the season, what an embarrassment, and what, am I supposed to sit on telly again after this, telling people I know what I’m talking about, when I clearly don’t—“

“Shh, Gaz, it’s okay,” Jamie soothes, “it’s going to be fine. You aren’t going to be sacked.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and Jamie grows slightly concerned. “Gary? Are you okay? Stupid question, I know you’re not, but you’re still—you’re still there, aren’t you?”

“I was just checking that I had the right number,” Gary says slowly, sounding confused and slightly hurt, “and I do. I called _Becks_ , J. And this is his phone that you’re picking up. At seven in the morning. And you were sleeping. I can hear it in your voice. Why do you have Becks’ phone?”

Jamie scrambles for an excuse and fails to find one, the silence only growing more incriminating as it lengthens.

“So I left, and Becks came to do MNF with you, and stepped right into our relationship, too?”

“You don’t answer my calls,” Jamie says quietly, “or my texts. You’re in a different city, in a different country, and you’ve been ignoring me for months on end. Gary, you’re the one who called it off before you left.” He nudges David awake gently.

“Hey, pretty boy. Morning. I know it’s early, but there’s, uh, a phone call for you.”

“Morning, love,” David mumbles sleepily, kissing Jamie good morning and rolling over to take the phone from his hand. “’llo?” He shifts to rest his head on Jamie’s shoulder, until he hears an angry Manc shouting at him and sits up abruptly.

“Gaz? I’m sorry. We just—I don’t know, it just happened, it’s just… been happening, I guess—no, it isn’t a one-time thing. I—I don’t know which one of you I—Yeah, yeah, I think I _might_ —”

Jamie thinks about running. He thinks about hiding in the bathroom, thinks about letting David and Gary have it out like adults, but he can't quite make himself abandon David if he doesn't want it.

He takes David's hand in his own. "Do you want me to go?" He asks softly, giving the ink covered fingers a squeeze and bringing them up to his lips for a kiss that he can't quite explain the reasoning behind.

Apparently the sound carries, because Gary's shouting again in short order.

"Stay," David whispers, eyes sad and face pale. Jamie nods.

Gary tears David a new one for a solid few minutes before Jamie's had enough. David's looking heartbroken, shoulders slumped. He won't look at Jamie. He's pinching the bridge of his nose and looking down, flinching at some of Gary's words as if they physically hurt, and it's just awful to see. His hand drifts from his nose to his temples, squeezing his eyes shut.

Jamie recognizes the symptoms. David doesn’t often have migraines, though a few too many drinks tended to trigger one, and sometimes certain foods did too. Jamie hadn’t even known he got them at all until David had told him they might have to wait to have sex because he couldn’t see him very clearly.

_I’d love to fuck you, babe, but there’s an aura right over your face, and I feel kind of sick._

He’d handled it calmly, telling Jamie where his meds were and Jamie had just laid next to him in a dark, quiet room for a couple of hours until he felt better.

He always closes his eyes when he gets the auras. It doesn’t make them go away, but he gets light sensitive.

Jamie can't stand it anymore. He gets out of bed and draws the curtains, padding into the bathroom to fetch David’s pills and a glass of water, closing the door behind him to darken the room. He climbs back into bed, handing him the pills and waiting for him to put them in his mouth before handing him the glass, and David squeezes his forearm gently in silent gratitude.

"Give me the phone," Jamie says, iron in his voice.

"Babe—"

"David, give me the phone, love. Please.”

He looks at him a moment and hands it over, resting his head on Jamie’s chest and enjoying the feeling of Jamie’s fingers carding gently through his hair.

"Gary, I know you're hurting—"

"What the _fuck_ would you know about how I feel?! You've got no fucking _idea_ —" Gary starts furiously.

"—but you have no right to take it out on Dave. That's not fair, and we both know that. All three of us know that. He let you beat up on him a bit just now because he knew you were hurting, but that's done now. I'm not letting you keep going at him just because you're unhappy with your job."

"It's been so long since I talked to him—I thought I dialed the wrong number—"

"That's because you haven't been answering your calls, love. From me or from Davey. I've been calling _Phil_ just to ask how you're doing. And he's been lying to me."

"Don't call me love," Gary says miserably. "Not when you don't love me anymore."

"Don't be fucking stupid. Of course I still love you. So does David, in his own way. We both love you. It's not much wonder that I fell for the only person who understood how I felt after you left, Gaz."

"He doesn't understand." Gary's always been stubborn. "He _can't_ understand. He's not capable. He's always been the one who leaves. He doesn't know what it's like to be left behind."

"Well, now you know what it's like on both sides," Jamie says quietly. "Look, Gaz, we've been together, I know that's... upsetting for you. But how about I put you on speaker, hm? You can tell us both what's on your mind, mate. And then we can help you. Two people who care about you. How about that?"

Gary sniffs a little. "I'm still mad at you. At both of you."

"I know, Gary. I know you are. Do you want to go on speaker?"

"Okay."

Jamie settles against Becks and puts the phone on speaker, smiling at the little kiss he gets on his bare shoulder.

"You didn't have to do that, babe. You didn't have to defend me." He murmurs into Jamie's ear.

Jamie hesitates, looking for the right words. "Course I did, love. You're mine. That's what I do for people who are mine."

"If you two wanted to have a private conversation, you could just hang up on me," Gary snarks.

"If we did, we'd have to wait months and months before we heard from you again," Jamie says defensively.

"Leave it, love," David says softly, "why don't you tell us what's bothering you, Gaz, and we can try to figure out a solution together."

"I hate this job," Gary confesses, sounding fragile, "I hate this job. I miss home. I miss you, J. I miss being in bed with you. I miss kissing you. I miss when you used to make love to me while wearing my old United kit—"

David's looking at Jamie, eyes clouding over. It’s one thing to know they’d been together. It’s another to hear this conversation, to hear the intimate details of the things Jamie and Gary had done in the bedroom. Probably in Jamie’s bedroom, too, sometimes. The same bed David had climbed into after his birthday dinner, wrapping his arms around Jamie and kissing him good night. He smirks weakly. "Will you wear my kit next time we make love?" He whispers into Jamie's ear.

Jamie rolls his eyes at him. "Depends what kit, Davey."

David grins, pulling Jamie in for a quick kiss.

"You miss David too, love," Jamie says quickly flushing both at the kiss and the reminders of the more physical aspect of his relationship with Gary.

" _Fuck_ David," Gary says sharply, "though I guess you already have. Taking my job and my Scouser all at once. Some mate _you_ turned out to be, Becks."

"Watch your mouth, Neville," Jamie says sternly, "you _left_. You left your job and you left me. You _left_. I'm sorry I didn't just wait for you to come back. I could've waited, and I _would’ve_ , Gaz, but you cut me out of your life! I didn't even know if you wanted me anymore—"

"I was ashamed," Gary whispers, "first I was ashamed about the results, and then I stopped answering your calls, and I was ashamed about that, about being a coward... I watched the show though, every week. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised at the fact that you're fucking him, the way you two are all over each other on MNF. Or is he fucking you? Do you let him bend you over and fuck you, J?"

"Shut up, Gary. I know you're upset, but that doesn't entitle you to demand information like that from me. And stop talking about him like he's not here! He's here with me."

"He's pretty, isn't he? Always knows the right things to say. I wouldn't trust him, though. He's a bit of a flight risk. You never know when he'll run again."

"As opposed to you?" Jamie asks quietly, "solid, dependable Gary Neville, who doesn't bother picking up his phone, who can't so much as send a fucking _text_ saying he's okay? Who turns around and tries to make _me_ feel bad when _he's_ the one who left? I'm used to being left behind, Gary. You, Michael, David, you're all the same. So don't give me that bullshit about how you're so much better than him."

"I love you," Gary says quietly, "those others, they don't. David doesn't. I do."

"How do you know David doesn't love me?" Jamie asks simply.

"I-I just know! He doesn't love you. Not like I love you."

Jamie sighs softly into David’s hair. "I love you too, Gaz. But we're not together anymore. You called it off, remember?"

"It was a mistake! I made a mistake, J. I'm sorry, just-just please--"

"Please what?"

"Please leave him! You don't love him like you love me, I know you don't. It takes you time, J, you don't fall right off the bat like that. You burn low and slow. You still love me, Jamie, you said you did."

"I do," Jamie says quietly, "but I like David a lot. I might—I might even love him. I-I do love him." It's the first time he's said it, and he's not even talking to him, still on the phone with Gary, but David's arms tighten around him. "I love you too," he whispers, just so Jamie doesn't have to sit with the weight of the words for very long.

"I shouldn't have called," Gary says abruptly. "It was a mistake. I was happier when I didn't know. Not that that's saying much, given the shitstorm that is my life, but—"

"Have you considered three at the back?" Jamie says quietly, "three at the back, play your wing backs as wingers, they can drop back if they need to defend for five at the back. I was watching Deportivo la Coruña to scout them out and I think they'd have trouble if you did that. They’ll park the bus. It's not pretty football, but—"

"But it's something," Gary says with a sigh. "What do you think, Becks?"

"I think Jamie's right. He's got a better football brain than I do. I'd say listen to whatever he's got to say, Gaz."

"I could—I could hire you. How'd you feel about coming down to Spain, J? The weather's fantastic, the people are... well, they give you a chance, at least."

"You already have an assistant, Gaz," Jamie says gently, "but I can consult over the phone if you need. You know the league better than I do. I haven't even got my badges yet."

"Pretty sure I don't know jack shit about the league," Gary says heavily. "Pretty sure I don't know jack shit about anything. Given that my boyfriend's in love with my best mate and it took me this long to find out. When did you start fucking him?"

"It's been a few months. And _I_ kissed _him_ first, Gaz, not the other way round," Jamie says bravely.

"Maybe you just like Mancs," Gary says dully, "maybe it's a fetish, wanting to see a Manc begging for you. Was that it? The control? That's what got you off?"

"It wasn’t about him being a Manc, Gary. It’s never been about that. _He’s_ what gets me off. Just like you were what got me off. The man I love. You and David, both. Two of the most important men in my life, regardless of what teams you played for. Besides, David’s played for other teams, too.”

“You don’t have to remind me, Carra. I was the one who was there when he left. You know that damn well. I don’t throw Michael in your face, do I?”

Jamie flinches a little and sighs softly. “It’s been ten years. Mickey left. So did everyone else, eventually. And so did you. So don’t pretend it was the same for you when Scholesy stayed, when Giggsy stayed, when Phil moved to Everton, thirty miles down the road.”

“They didn’t love you!” Gary insists.

“What’s your point here? They couldn’t have loved me because they left? Because _you_ left, too. Whatever they felt or didn’t feel for me, I know I loved them, at least. I loved you. And I didn’t stop you from going, either, because I knew that that was wrong, that you deserved your chance. So maybe you could stop being upset over a decision that was made _over a decade ago_ , because David _deserved_ his chance, and he took it, and you need to learn to just live with that.” Jamie finishes with the words falling over each other to get out of his mouth, speaking quickly.

“Slow down, babe, you’re getting more Scouse,” David murmurs gently, more touched than he’d admit by Jamie’s stubborn defense of him.

“I can understand him just _fine_ ,” Gary barks through the phone.

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Gary, stop acting like a child. I was a toy to you, and you threw me away. Now you’re mad that someone else has got me?” David holds him a little tighter, almost possessively.

“I didn’t throw you away!” Gary sounds appalled by the mere suggestion.

“I was ready to do long-distance! I was prepared to phone you and have Skype sex or whatever else it took to make it work. You were the one who said you didn’t want me anymore.”

Gary goes quiet for a long moment. “I lied,” he confesses softly, “I lied. I built up this story in my head about how I didn’t actually love you so I could make myself leave because I wanted this job.”

Jamie doesn’t quite know what to say. He sighs. “Why don’t you sort out the rest of the season and then come back, and we’ll try to—I don’t know, I mean, I’m not leaving David. You can shout at me until you get over it, or hit me or whatever you want.”

“Do you love me?” Gary asks quietly, “Just tell me this one thing, James. For the sake of what we had. Do you still love me? Did you ever?”

“I did,” Jamie says quietly. It’s all he needs to say but he’s never been good at knowing when to stop talking. “It’s—it’s changed. I still care about you, it’s just not as—not as romantic.”

“Is there a chance we can fix it?” Gary sounds grownup, but there’s a desolation in his voice that makes Jamie think of a little boy presenting his dad with a broken toy.

“You’ll always be a friend, Gary, that’s all I can say.” It had never worked out. Maybe it was petty, maybe it was small-minded, but Jamie had never been able to love the same way after he’d been left behind by someone. He liked to think he forgot and forgave, he stills defends Mickey in the media and calls him for the holidays and his birthday and thinks about him on their anniversary, but there’d never been a chance that they could rekindle things—not even when he was at United, just thirty miles down the road.

“You still love Stevie,” Gary says defensively.

“Yes. I do.” Jamie’s voice is matter-of-fact and David marvels at how well he manages to add _but you’re not him_ without saying a single word.

“I—I’ve got to go. Plan training, things like that. Phil’s coming over soon,” Gary mutters.

“Good luck, mate, I hope your lads win.”

“Yeah,” Gary says heavily, “we’ll give it a go.” He hangs up and Jamie lays back, fingers still brushing through David’s hair.

“Jaybird?”

“Hm?” Jamie’s eyes are closed, and they’re just laying there together.

“Are you okay?” David feels Jamie’s shrug of response.

“It’s weird. Talking to an ex is weird. Especially when your boyfriend was his best friend. I feel like a dick, being in love with you after I was in love with him.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I kind of feel like a dick, too. Being in love with my best mate’s ex. But I couldn’t help it. You’re—you’re just you. Couldn’t help falling for you. God knows I tried.”

Jamie smiles and kisses his hair. “Breakfast?”

David nods. “You make it? I still have a headache.”

“I know, Davey-boy. I’ll make you some nice French toast as a special treat, and we’ll stay home and be lazy today, yeah? Lay around in bed and make out and have a shower and have sex and be a boring old couple.”

“Boring old married couple, you mean.” David opens his eyes a crack and puckers his lips to ask for a kiss.

“Not yet, babe, but keep doing what you’re doing and it won’t be much longer,” Jamie says playfully, kissing him before pulling away. The last David feels of him before he goes is a gentle caress of his cheek, and he smiles, letting himself doze until he comes back with breakfast. He hopes it’s not a joke, can’t say he’d mind being married to his Jaybird, even if that might be rushing into things.

Jamie usually doesn’t wake him when he has a headache. He just lets him wake on his own, by bringing in food or brushing a hand through his hair until he’s up again, and if that isn’t enough, he’ll set the food aside and lay next to David and fall asleep himself.

When he brings in the French toast, David’s eyes open and his arms reach out for him. “Feed me?”

“Alright, lazy boy,” Jamie agrees, “I will, and then we can sit and watch your shows, and then you can take me to bed and show me why I haven’t regretted being with you for a single second since we started.”

David smiles at him, opening his mouth and chewing the bite Jamie obediently gives him. He lets out a soft hum and gradually sits up, taking the plate and returning the favor. Jamie grins at him and kisses his cheek.

They take turns eating until they’re done.

“You could leave me, you know,” David offers, “when he comes back. And he will, sooner or later. He’ll quit or get sacked or make it to the end of the season and come back. And you can leave me then, if you want to.”

“I don’t,” Jamie says quietly. “I like my lad just fine. You’re gorgeous, you and your ink and your eyes and all of it. Your abs, too. I’m not even gonna lie, I’m nursing a semi right now, thinking about your abs.”

David reaches down and cops a feel. “You’re ridiculous. I’ll take care of that for you in the shower, yeah? Get on my knees for you.”

Jamie bites his lip.

“I love that you do that.” David presses a finger to the spot where his teeth had been digging into his lip, “it’s so sexy, knowing that I turn you on.”

Jamie looks at him flatly. “You turn everyone on, you!”

“Yeah, but you’re the only one the matters.”

“I might be a little in love with you,” Jamie confesses quietly, “I didn’t think I would be when we met, but I am. And it’s not just because you’re beautiful. You are, I mean, you really, really are, but that’s not the only reason why. You’re just—you’re good to me, and you love me and you’re generous and you’re soft when I need you to be, and you flirt brilliantly sometimes and sometimes you use stupid pickup lines on me, even though I’m already your boyfriend and we live together, and I just—I love it.”

David smiles and takes his hands, lacing their fingers together. “I love you too. More than a little.”

**Author's Note:**

> I think there'll be one more installment of this series. I was going to squeeze that one into this, but they really do seem like two separate stories, so hopefully it'll be better this way.


End file.
